Tale of the Week 8 - The Showdown + The Winner
Juvenal's and mollsomg's tale received the same amount of votes.
We need a tie breaker showdown!
(The yellow smiley is mollsomg, the darth one is Juvenal)
Here are the tales again, please read them before voting.
edit: mollsomg has won the showdown! Congratulations!
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Originally Posted by Juvenal
It came to me in a blinding flash, so here it is...
The Price of Honour
Barnabus was not a patient man, and after just a few minutes in the line he
was unable to contain himself any longer.
“What in the name of the Gods are we doing here?”
Luckily his buddy Sextus had been paying attention during the briefing and
was able to give a synopsis.
“Well, it's like this. You know the Great Scipio insists we should have
elephants, so the barbarian scum can't boast about them any more. Trouble
is, the damned things are so delicate they keep getting sick. Anyway, this
time the stupid beast was given the wrong type of flowers in its feed or
something and had a fit of sneezing.”
“So? It aint sneezing now.”
“No, it stopped when it sat on our Legionary Eagle.”
“Ah... ", there was an embarrassed pause, "so we're here to get it out?"
“Yup.”
Time passed, and soon Barnabus reached the head of the queue. His
comrades had all been unable to retrieve the Eagle, either through
shortness of arm or delicacy of stomach (some were still heaving weakly
beside the queue).
Barnabus, true to his nature, decided to take the direct approach and, with
a single fluid motion, thrust his gladius deep into the rectum of the elephant.
“Got it!” he exclaimed feeling the solid contact of sword point against wood.
Clearly the elephant must have felt something too, because it gave an
ear-splitting howl and promptly sat down.
Sadly Barnabus, intent on winkling out the Eagle, wasn't paying attention
again and failed to get out of the way in time.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The mist
"Friiii"
The whistle sounded again.
The hand holding my armour in the back urged me forward.
I pushed my comrade in front of me to let the row advance.
The shields were pressed to our left sides, for we knew that they would come soon.
Accompanied by a terrifying, thundering squeal that sounded as if Hades spoke to us mortals,
they returned from the mist in the front,
stumbling through the gaps of our rows, crashing with the shields and shoulders to the left and the right,
with fear in their eyes, falling behind, safe.
Metal crushed with bones and flesh in between, I could hear latin screams supressed by the loud squeal again.
My comrade in front of me moved backwards, my right hand struggled to keep him at distance.
The mist was clearing slowly –
I saw the red flashing feathers of the Centurio few meters away, holding his head high.
A huge black shadow moved out of the mist, and with the ground shaking by it’s trampling I realised that this was the incarnation of fear.
A grey head with long, white, curved spears became visible, and I could hear it’s coughing, a deep rumbling sound. Slowly the massive thing rolled towards my row.
The wrath of gods! I had to escape!
I glanced at a legionarie’s silhoutte trying to turn from the front, stumbling and falling.
A giant member from the fear became visible and stepped on the man’s back with cruel slowliness, bending his body and gently squelching his bones.
The aweful sound was soaked up by the returning mist, covering the fear and the front.
Those behind me did not see, did not know!
I was held tight at my back, rows to the left and the right.
Roman discipline, no way out…
“Friiii”
Re: Tale of the Week 8 - The Showdown
...is my daddy!
